9/11, a day that has defined America for a decade now. 9/11, a day that has shaped our country in every conceivable way from economy to politics; from entertainment to home lives, it’s effected everything. 9/11, the first and only day in my adult life that I felt legitimate fear. Not enough can be said about the events of 9/11, and I for one spend a lot of days thinking about its impact on our country and my own life; but something about yesterday made me want to not think about the events of 9/11. So on the 10th anniversary of one of the most tragic and darkly historic days in the history of this great country, I decided not to get caught up in the 9/11 thing. Well, last night at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, five minutes from NYC, an unexpected reminder of 9/11 reached up and grabbed my attention; unexpected in its nature, not its presence. Every year on 9/11 it happens. You see special report after special report, documentary after documentary, and story after story about the day itself and the horrors of the events of that day. For most people in this country, it’s the only reminder they have of what was done to us on that day. People’s treatment of 9/11 has become very similar to their treatment of Christmas; let’s be nice to everyone we see on December 25th, but then back to mean, self-centered bastards on the 26th. On 9/11 lets pay tribute to those who lost their lives and let’s get all gushy about America, but then tomorrow it’s back to business as usual and none of that matters anymore; it should always matter. To me, when I watch the videos of what happened on 9/11 I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach; it’s hard to watch. See, this is why sports, and your fandom is so important to the fabric of what makes America what it is. It’s the perfect emotional outlet; you can get angry for a few hours, elated for a for a few hours, or hostile, angry, and happy all in the same 3 hour period during the course of a football game. Last night, the Jets opened their season against “America’s Team,” the Dallas Cowboys, in primetime. It was the last and only game of the night and it was on the big, bright stage of NYC; in the shadow of ground zero. I’m not a big believer in sports = life, but on this night it rang true. I don’t want to make too much of this and I’m sure some cynical fan out there will call me out on this, but I believe that what went down last night when the Jets defeated the Cowboys was not only fate, but it was something to put your faith in when you feel like we will never fully come back from what happened 10 years ago. I often get the feeling that America will never return to prominence; that we are doomed to be just another country after being knocked down a peg by the terrorist attacks of 9/11. As a Jets fan, this is my general take on most things, but last night was almost the perfect end of a decade of uncertainty, and a beacon to shine towards the future of this city and this country. I know it sounds overblown and you Rioters! who aren’t even big sports fans may read this and think that I’m making way too much of this, but you need to realize the power of your fandom; no matter how big or small. 
Let’s go back 10 years. In the days following 9/11, my wife and I with our 6 month old boy, returned to NYC and were just sad; it’s the most accurate word to describe what we felt. We were sad for our amazing city, sad for those who lost their lives for no reason and for those who lost their lives for a reason. We were also scared, and dominated by a strong sense of uncertainty the likes of which I have never had to deal with. I remember it was a baseball game that brought me out of that malaise. It was September 21st, 2001 and the New York Mets were hosting the Atlanta Braves at Shea stadium; it was the first sports action back in NYC since the attacks of 9/11. The Mets were taking on their arch rivals, the Atlanta Braves in the heat of a pennant race. The Mets were 5 ½ games back, and all but out of this race. Injured and beaten down after winning the National League pennant the year before, this was the last stand for a team that was supposed to be great again. They were America on this night. Down 2-1 in the bottom of the 8th to a Braves staff that never blew leads, Mike Piazza, NYC’s adopted son, stepped up and embodied the spirit of this great city by hitting what is now a historic homer that gave the Mets a 3-2 lead and hope. Hope for a chance to come back in this pennant race. Hope for another chance to go to the World Series. Hope that they brought joy and fun back to its hurting city again. The emotional effect of that homer reverberated across the country as it has joined the list as some of the greatest Home Runs in the history of the game. It was a sign that NYC, and the USA will never give up, no matter what the odd, we will overcome them. No matter who the opposition is, we will fight them and be victorious. I know it is saccharin, and overplayed, but that was the feeling I got when I saw Piazza launch that ball out of Shea. I remember leaping off my bed and jumping over the baby’s jumper while cheering and pumping my fists in jubilation (this was for a late September game that meant very little in the standings).
That brings us to 10 years later; September 11th, 2011, a football game in NYC that pitted the new back page owners in NYC, the New York Jets, and their brash “we are better than you and we’re here to kick your ass” attitude against “America’s team,” the Dallas Cowboys in the showcase game of the night. Now at first I saw no signs, symbolism, or reason to believe that this was going to be a special night; as a matter of fact I was confident that the Jets were going to blow the doors off of the Cowboys. Of course like all things “Jets,” the complete opposite happened, the Cowboys came out a threatened to put it to the Jets NFC East style. Instead what was set up was a comeback for the ages; a comeback that you couldn’t have predicted if you tried. The Cowboys were 241-0-1 when leading by 14+ points in the 4th quarter before last night and with 14 minutes left in the game, that’s where the Jets found themselves. The Jets did everything they could to lose this game. They had to overcome their own mistakes (a three and out and a fumble in the final 8 minutes), and early dominant play by a very talented Cowboys team; but overcome it they did. They even did it in difficult fashion, with a 50-yd FG to win it. To me this was more than just a football game.
I tried to escape the 9/11 machine yesterday and not relive every excruciating moment again because I relive it a lot more than just on 9/11. Unlike most Americans, I have not forgotten what happened, and I have not politicized it to death, or use it for personal gain. 9/11 has a special place in my heart, just like those games now do. This Jets victory was the perfect bookend in so many ways. Back in 2001, it was the blue collar Mets, not the rich Yankees (it just worked out that way), who welcomed NYC back to the good feeling of sports and showed it was safe not only to go out to a ball game, but believe in miracles. I know to call a victory in a baseball game a “miracle” is a little bit of a stretch, but given the circumstances and the overall feeling in the country, I think it’s fair. This time around it was the blue collar Jets, confident and unrelenting (like America should be), who were chosen by the NFL to host this game, not the Giants who have been New Yorks team for ages now. The Jets produced a miracle of their own setting up the perfect bookend for this challenging decade. A decade defined by and I believe recovered from, the most horrific and tragic event on American soil since Pearl Harbor in 1941. They showed fans everywhere that even when you’re down, and you, yourself are continuously fighting yourself, you can still win. With this victory and the completion of the Ground Zero memorial despite the endless line of political horse crap that went with that, and the construction of the new tower now very visible and lit up, New York City and America have come full circle and showed the world that even when the chips are down, WE can win. Even though we are continuously fighting ourselves, WE can win. Even though times look bleak, and things are so overwhelming that you can’t even see what it might look like on the other end, WE can still win. So let’s just say J!E!T!S! JETS! JETS! JETS! for the USA, because we were all winners last night; even the Cowboys who went down 27-24. Sometimes it’s not about the scoreboard.
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